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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29930256">Bandages</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar'>bombcollar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bugsnax (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, Injury, Pre-Canon, Relationship Issues, Vignette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:13:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29930256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gramble keeps winding up in Eggabell's medical bay, for one reason or another, and sees the town's deterioration mirrored in his own.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bandages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>warning for: Couples arguing, descriptions of injuries (not too graphic), mentions of vomiting, starvation, a little bit of cursing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, Egg, they were just playin’!” Gramble insists as Eggabell lifts his sweater up, gently palpating the area of his ribs to check for any breaks. He sucks in a pained breath as she presses on a particularly tender spot.</p><p>“Well, nothing seems to be broken,” she tells him. “But if you’d been hit a little harder, it might’ve been, and I can’t put a cast on ribs. You’d have to be on bed rest…”</p><p>Gramble rubs his side when she moves back, whiskers drooping sheepishly. “I wouldn’t want that… Y’know how Spuddies are, though. They don’t know their own strength.”</p><p>“Right.” Eggabell points her pen at him. “So you’ll have to know it for them. Just… Please be careful, Gramble. Maybe stick to trying to cuddle the littler ones, like your Kweebles, alright?”</p><p>He nods, slipping off the cot. “I will, Egg.”</p><hr/><p>“Come on, drink. Slowly,” Eggabell helps Gramble hold the cup, his fingers trembling as he raises it to his mouth. She’d found him sobbing hysterically outside his barn in the middle of the night, clutching his arm to his chest and wailing that something was wrong. The strange red liquid he’d vomited all over the floor had turned out not to be blood, but partially-digested snakmatter, the snak's googly eyes still floating on top of the mess. She could understand the confusion, though. She’d almost had a heart attack when she saw it.</p><p>Gramble holds the cup in his lap, other arm tucked out of sight under his shirt, but she can see the shiny red flesh of budding strawberries poking out beneath the fur above his elbow. “I didn’t mean to,” he croaks. “It musta happened while I was asleep. I got a history of this sorta thing…”</p><p>“I know, Gramble. I saw your records,” she tells him, taking the cup to refill it. “You’re dehydrated. Just try to keep calm, you’re going to be okay.”</p><p>“I promised I wouldn’t…” He sniffles. “I can’t let it happen again. I’ll tie myself down if I gotta.” After a long, thoughtful pause, he adds, “Wish I could at least remember how it tasted.”</p><hr/><p>He ties the knots firmly every night, but Gramble inevitably finds himself waking up outside, lying in the grass, or on occasions when he was less lucky, being rudely awoken when he tripped on something.</p><p>He gingerly touches his bleeding nose as Eggabell gets him some tissues. “It’s probably not broken,” she tells him. She sounds tired. “You’d be in a lot more pain if it was.”</p><p>“I did hit that rock pretty hard…” Gramble mumbles, looking down at the ground. Blood dribbles from his snout and split lip. At least his hand is back to normal. It had taken more than a week for the snakification to wear off, but he was still having nightmares about it, about waking up to find more and more of himself changed. He finds himself still wondering about the taste, but he made a promise.</p><p>“Bell, I’m back!” he hears Lizbert announce from outside the tent. Eggabell cracks a weary smile and excuses herself to greet her partner. Gramble holds the wad of tissues to his nose and tries not to eavesdrop. Their conversation sounds odd and polite, more like two coworkers meeting each other at the grocery store than a couple people in love. But what does he know. He’s never been in love.</p><hr/><p>Despite their best efforts to farm, the snax had destroyed every crop they’d planted, apart from sauce, which even then they endlessly harassed Wambus over. The supply of nonperishable food was beginning to run low. To make up for the deficiency, Lizbert had asked Gramble to help catch some extra bugsnax for everybody, knowing he was good enough at it to fill up his barn mostly on his own.</p><p>It pained him to have to lure them to their deaths, but if Liz wanted him to do it, Gramble would do his best to put his feelings aside. After all, it was this or let them eat his little ones.</p><p>The sun beat down on his shoulders and thermal warmth rose from beneath his feet, the air shimmering like grenadine in soda. He’d gotten dizzy and nauseous, and managed to drag himself back to town just to collapse right in front of the gateway to the springs.</p><p>“I think all of us have been working a little too hard,” Triffany says as Eggabell dabs antiseptic on a nasty scrape she’d gotten all along her forearm. “Weather like this, it’s just not safe to be out in the sun too long.”</p><p>Gramble murmurs an affirmative from his cot, his eyes shut tight.</p><p>“Triff, you need to hold still,” Eggabell lightly scolds her.</p><p>“Oops, sorry, hon,” Triffany says. “Yanno, when I was out at my dig site, I found a Buffalocust! You hardly ever see ‘em in the gorge. When I ate it, I coulda sworn I had some kinda vision. Saw myself staring into a fire, lotta other grumps around me, all in the shadows… The desert grumps had a ritual where they’d coat their bugsnax in a hallucinogenic paste they made from cactus flowers. They’d eat ‘em way out in the desert to try and achieve some sorta higher state of consciousness. If I can just decipher the recipe, maybe I’ll try it myself!”</p><p>“Please, don’t do that,” Eggabell sighs.</p><hr/><p>The medical tent smells like burnt fur and singed snax, sweet and smokey. It would have been pleasantly nostalgic of backyard barbecues if Snaxburg hadn’t just been nearly burned to the ground.</p><p>Lizbert had asked Filbo to go see if Eggabell needed help, which of course she didn’t, because Eggabell was the doctor here, not Filbo. So he was sitting on the spare cot while Eggabell treated Gramble’s burns, kicking his feet idly and looking over at her every few seconds.</p><p>“Well, it’s not as bad as it could have been,” Eggabell says as she smears antiseptic salve on his inner forearms. “The snax can survive being on fire, but you can’t.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know…” Gramble looks down at what she’s doing so he doesn’t have to see Filbo earnestly staring at him. Filbo and his weenie hands. Pink, shiny flesh, swollen like a blister. Why would he willingly do that to himself?</p><p>“It’ll be a few weeks ‘til all your fur grows back, but the swelling should go down in a couple days. Make sure to take your antibiotics.” Eggabell finishes wrapping his arms up, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry. I really hate the smell of burnt fur.”</p><p>“I’m sorry…” Filbo mutters from the corner.</p><p>“It’s okay, Filbo. I know it was an accident.”</p><p>“Yeah.” His reply is even quieter. “…hey, can I ask you guys something?”</p><p>“What is it?” Eggabell had begun to put her supplies away. Gramble just looks at him, deciding he’ll answer if he feels like it.</p><p>“Do you guys think we made the right decision? Do you feel like… maybe we shouldn’t have come here?”</p><p>Egg looks at her reflection in the glass door of her little supply cabinet. “…sometimes I wonder that myself. But I try not to let myself get caught up in the what-ifs. I’m here now, and… I’ve got to support Lizbert. And all the rest of you.”</p><p>Gramble doesn’t reply. Filbo didn’t need to know that sort of thing about him.</p><hr/><p>He should have known better. Hell, he <em>did</em> know better, but there was nothing else left to eat, and sauce barely managed to put a dent in his hunger. Liz or someone had set aside a few cans that had been damaged, accidentally punctured and the like. How bad could it be, he’d thought? Maybe he’d get a stomachache, but that would pass and it was better than being this hungry.</p><p>At first it was fine. The soup had tasted a little off, but Gramble had finished it anyway, and felt better. It was only a temporary reprieve, but he’d try to enjoy it while it lasted and get things done while he had a bit of energy.</p><p>Not even a day later, it finally hit, and he couldn’t even stand, nausea wracking his body and vision swimming. Wiggle had found him and called for Eggabell, but it was just their horrid luck that minutes earlier Wambus had come running in from the gorge, carrying Triffany in his arms, her tibia poking out of an extremely ugly compound fracture.</p><p>Amid Wiggle and Wambus’s pleading and Triff’s pained sobs and the smell of blood and vomit rich in the air, Eggabell panicked and locked herself in her and Lizbert’s house.</p><p>Floofty, attracted by the commotion, helped bind Triffany’s leg while Wambus held her paw tightly.</p><p>Wiggle was no medical expert, but she brought Gramble into her hut, wiped his mouth and ran a cool, damp cloth over his sweaty forehead, stroking his fur until he stopped trembling.</p><p>“I’m gonna die, Wiggle…” he murmurs.</p><p>Wiggle gives his paw a gentle squeeze. “No you’re not, dear.”</p><p>“What am I gonna do…? I can’t eat them. I can’t…”</p><p>“Just try to rest, Gramble.” She draws the blanket up over him. Her new skin, orange peel, shimmers under her fairy lights.</p><hr/><p>“I can’t believe you two! Don’t we have enough problems around here without you guys attacking each other?!” Eggabell rips a strip of gauze from the roll and begins to bandage the ring of tooth punctures on Wambus’s arm, wrapping it tightly. He winces, though he doesn’t look away from where he’s glaring at Gramble, who’s doing the same in return, flecks of blood and bits of blue fur still stuck to his face.</p><p>“Gramble was the one who attacked <em>me</em>,” Wambus says. “I was mindin’ my own business when he came over and socked me in the gut ‘n bit me.”</p><p>“Don’t give me that!” Gramble snaps. “You know why I did it! I tried bein’ nice! I tried askin’ you to stop stealin’ my little ones, but you didn’t listen! I dunno how much clearer I can make myself!”</p><p>“Gramble, calm down,” Eggabell uses her teeth (multicolored, uncomfortably slick) to bite off another piece of gauze. She moves to cup Gramble’s jaw and tilt his head so she can wrap his neck. Wambus hadn’t bitten down hard, and thank grump for that. Those tusks were no joke. Even snakified, her flesh replaced with taffy and chocolate, her touch is gentle, albeit a bit sticky. Gramble can’t help but flinch when she tries to hold his cheek, and she draws back, looking hurt.</p><p>Wambus snorts. “You gonna go bite Wiggle, too? Or is it just me who’s not allowed to steal from you?”</p><p>Gramble glowers at him, then hops off the cot and shoves his way past Eggabell and out of the tent.</p><p>Eggabell stares down at the gauze strip in her hands. Wambus places a large paw on her shoulder. “It ain’t your fault. Gonna take more than a trowel to clear that bramble patch.”</p><p>She thinks she understands his folksy metaphor.</p><hr/><p>Gramble doesn’t register what’s happened right away, finding himself staring dumbly at his hand, at his index finger bent at a terribly wrong angle. He’d placed his hand in the space between the barn door and the frame. One of the stronger snax had suddenly pushed it closed on him.</p><p>It doesn’t even hurt. It’s numb, but his hunger-addled mind soon catches up to the reality of the situation, and he rushes off to Eggabell’s tent, only to find it empty.</p><p>Clutching his shaking wrist, he turns in place, breathing raggedly. Where was she? The door to their cottage is hanging open but she’s not inside. Head swimming, Gramble leans against the warm wood, sinking down until he was sitting in the grass. He can feel his heart beating in his palm, blood welling up and dribbling from the break in his skin.</p><p>“Gramble?”</p><p>He looks up. Chandlo is peering down at him. His own wrist is bandaged. “You don’t look so good, dawg,” he says. “What happened to your hand? You need some help with that?”</p><p>“I ah… uh…” Gramble stammers. “Y-yeah.”</p><p>Chandlo helps him up, arm around his shoulders. “Snorpy patches me up all the time when training gets a little too intense. He’ll help you out.”</p><p>Nodding, Gramble lets Chandlo help him over to the mill. Snorpy is sketching something at his desk, but he quickly gets up as the two of them enter. “What happened?” He asks. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Broken finger, bro,” Chandlo says, leading Gramble over to the stairs so he can sit. “You got a splint?”</p><p>“…yes, I believe so.” Next to the forge is a metal chest, which Snorpy unlocks and rummages through. Chandlo sits next to Gramble, heavy arm slung over Gramble’s shoulders. The weight is comforting. Gramble leans into it a little.</p><p>Snorpy crouches by them and gently takes Gramble’s wrist, studying the injury. “Who did this to you?”</p><p>“Nobody!” Gramble says, voice rising shrilly at the idea that someone would be out there breaking fingers. “It- it was an accident, it got caught in the barn door.”</p><p>Snorpy studies his face intently, as if searching for some hint of dishonesty in Gramble’s sunken eyes. “I see. Please try to be careful. Eggabell seems to be out of town a lot more often as of late, <em>colluding</em> with my sibling, I’m sure.”</p><p>“She’s doin’ what?”</p><p>Snorpy clears his throat as he bandages Gramble’s finger and sets the splint. “They’re doing experiments together.”</p><p>“Does Liz know?”</p><p>The two other grumps exchange looks. “I’m sure she does,” Snorpy says. “But I’m not about to let myself get tangled up in that, and neither should you.”</p><p>“You need to take care of yourself,” Chandlo pats Gramble’s arm. “You’re not looking too hot lately. I already got Egg and Snorpy to worry about, don’t need to be worrying about you too.”</p><p>“Why’re you worried about Eggabell?” Gramble asks, eager to turn the conversation away from himself. He heard plenty about his health from Eggabell and Wiggle already.</p><p>“Well… I don’t wanna say too much when she’s not around,” Chandlo glances away. “It’s not polite to talk about someone behind their back. But she’s been pushing herself really hard, and I got a feeling it’s not something my training can prepare her for.”</p><hr/><p>Felt like he was spending more time horizontal than vertical these days. Poor Filbo had found him this time, passed out in the grove. A pair of Lollives had been playing catch with his snak trap.</p><p>Eggabell says there really isn’t a lot she can do for malnutrition. She knows as well as he does that sauce barely constitutes food. Has he considered just… trying the snax again? He wasn’t even conscious for that first and only one, so who knows, maybe he’ll really enjoy them. As if the guilt would be any easier to bear than the hunger.</p><p>It’s all so easy for her to say, isn’t it. She’s more than half snak now, her arms and her legs, her teeth, her nose, weird new appendages jutting out of her head. How could she stand it?</p><p>She lets him rest in her tent though, promising she’ll keep an eye on him and prevent him from sleepwalking, even though it’s the middle of the afternoon. Gramble shuts his eyes, curled into a little ball, clutching the thin cotton sheets around him.</p><p>“Good day, Dr. Batternugget.”</p><p>Floofty’s voice.</p><p>“Good day, Professor Fizzlebean,” he hears Eggabell greet in return, like they’re colleagues meeting at a conference.</p><p>“I’ve got several new theories I’d like to test, if you’ve got the time.”</p><p>“I’d love to, but…” she trails off. Gramble gets the feeling she’s looking back at him. He keeps his eyes shut, pretending he’s fallen asleep.</p><p>Floofty pads over, their shadow falling across him. “I see. You know, I’ve been working on developing snak pheromones, as a way to alter their behavior. Perhaps I could dab a little on him. They might even make his pets a bit more affectionate.”</p><p>“Floofty!” He hears Egg exclaim, amusement beneath her exasperation. “No, that’s mean. At least wait until he wakes up. Maybe you’ll find someone else who’s willing to help you after all.”</p><p>“Oh, but I have the perfect assistant already…”</p><p>Eggabell laughs. “I try.”</p><hr/><p>The knots always come undone, so Gramble no longer bothers trying to tie himself to his bed, instead wrapping himself in his blanket in a corner of the barn’s ground floor when he simply couldn’t stay awake any longer. He hopes his presence is enough to make some of the others think twice before sneaking in, but snax still go missing. He hasn’t accidentally eaten any since the last time. Maybe the urge was finally gone.</p><p>The sleepwalking sure wasn’t, though. Most nights he wandered around the town without incident. Sometimes other folks woke him up (usually Beffica, she seemed to enjoy startling him) and sometimes they left him be. And sometimes he tripped on one of Wambus’s farming tools and fell directly on top of a rake.</p><p>That was how he found himself back in Eggabell’s tent, having a neat little line of puncture wounds across his stomach disinfected under the lantern light by a very sleepy Eggabell. They don’t talk much, letting it go unspoken that if he’d fallen just a foot or so in another direction, it would have caught his neck.</p><p>“At least Wambus keeps his tools clean,” she mutters. “You probably won’t get tetanus.”</p><p>“Thanks a lot, Wambus…” Gramble gives her a weary smile.</p><p>“It’s going to take longer than normal to heal, though.” Eggabell’s fingers, translucent, colorful gummy, unroll a length of bandage. “That’s how it is when you’re not getting adequate nutrition. You’re more prone to infection, too…”</p><p>He rests his hands on his chest as she wraps his abdomen, the curves of his ribs palpable beneath his thin fur. Eggabell finishes securing the bandage and lays a hand on his head. Her eyes glint wetly in the lamplight. “I know you love them, Gramble… But you don’t have to do this.”</p><p>Gramble looks at her wordlessly. She purses her lips. “I’m going to go back to bed. I’ll check up on you in the morning, alright?”</p><p>“Alright.” He nods. “G’night, Egg.”</p><hr/><p>Even with the painkillers she’d given him, Gramble sleeps fitfully, but he manages to stay put in the cot until he’s roused by the sound of raised voices.</p><p>“I need you <em>here</em>, Bell,” Liz says firmly. “I’ve told you time and again, I can handle myself alone.”</p><p>“I feel like you’re not listening to me!” Eggabell exclaims. “I know what I’m capable of, but you’re the only person here who won’t even give me a chance.”</p><p>“It’s not about that! We’ve only got one doctor in town. What’s everybody going to do if you’re hurt?”</p><p>“Well maybe you should have brought another doctor!” Eggabell snaps.  </p><p>“Maybe I should have!”</p><p>Gramble stares at the wall of the tent as he listens. He feels like he shouldn’t be hearing this, like he should clap his hands over his ears. But he doesn’t.</p><p>Liz continues, “You’ve already been leaving town for hours, doing God-knows-what with Floofty. You were away when Filbo sprained his ankle. Snorpy had to treat him because nobody could find you!”</p><p>“Do you think I don’t already feel like shit about that?!” Eggabell is shouting now. “All you want me to do sit around all day until somebody gets hurt! At least Floofty lets me help them!”</p><p>“Fine!” Liz shouts back. “Do whatever you want! I’m not your mother. If you’re going to yell at me every time I come home, maybe I’ll just stay up on the mountain. I guess whatever happens happens.”</p><p>Gramble pulls the blankets over his head, eyes squeezed shut, a whimper escaping his throat. He hears Liz walk off, and a few moments later, Eggabell enters the tent. She collapses in her chair, her back to him, paws pressed to her face. She starts to sob, her shoulders shaking. Gramble lowers the blanket and peers over at her, then tries to sit up, only for a stab of pain to stop him from going any further.</p><p>She hears him grunt and turns to him, tears spilling down her cheeks. He doesn’t like how <em>sticky</em> they look, dripping in gooey strings from her face.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” She sniffles loudly, wiping an arm across her eyes and turning back away. “Just- just give me a minute. I’ll change your bandages.”</p><p>“It’s okay…” Gramble lies back down with a wince.</p><p>“No, it’s not,” Eggabell hiccups. “It’s not.”</p><hr/><p>They’d all felt the quake, but true panic only broke out when Snorpy came running breathless back into town, clutching a roll of film in his paws. He’d been documenting the expedition, accompanying Lizbert and Eggabell to the massive stone door they had been investigating. On his way back to camp to get another roll, the quake had hit, and when he’d returned to where he’d last seen them, there were nothing but piles of stones and snow and massive mature pines torn directly from the earth.</p><p>How could they not assume the worst?</p><p>Gramble wanders away while Filbo is doing his best to talk everybody down, not interested in being trampled by an angry mob. He needed some place to think, to calm down, to figure out what he was going to do now that were was nobody left to lead them. He and his little ones were sitting ducks. He’d have to leave town…</p><p>As he passes Eggabell and Lizbert’s house, he hears the clunk of Eggabell’s chest being opened, and peeks in to see Floofty bent over it. He thought Floofty had left days ago. What were they doing back? They seem to find what they’re looking for and close the chest, bracing themselves against it, their claws digging into the wood, body trembling.</p><p>“Floofty?” Gramble calls their name quietly.</p><p>They stiffen, fur standing on end, before slowly straightening up and facing him. They’ve got a medical kit under their arm, a manila folder, and a thin, leather-bound book. A journal, maybe. “What do <em>you</em> want?”</p><p>“Why are <em>you</em> goin’ through Eggabell’s stuff?”</p><p>Floofty scoffs. “Who do you take me for, Cromdo? Eggabell gave me her chest key. I’m taking her belongings somewhere they won’t be pilfered.”</p><p>“…you don’t think she’s comin’ back either?” Gramble’s voice wavers. “I dunno what to think, b-but Snorpy said he didn’t see what happened-”</p><p>“Be quiet.” Floofy hisses from between clenched teeth. “I am not interested in listening to you opine. If Eggabell and Elizabert truly have perished, I need to make preparations.”</p><p>“I… I understand, Floofty.” Gramble taps his blunt claws together. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not upset. She was my friend too…”</p><p>“You don’t understand anything! You little pink ingrate!” Floofty snaps, baring their teeth. “Just because she was putting you back together every other day doesn’t mean you knew anything about her! So don’t speak to me as if you do!”</p><p>Gramble shrinks back as they storm out of the cottage, headed for the beach. As they pass, he notices the folder has the words “medical records” scribbled on it in Eggabell’s messy doctor handwriting.</p><p>The eyes in the photos on Egg and Liz’s table watch him. They’re smiling in those pictures. Gramble sinks into a sitting position, arms wrapped around his bandaged stomach. She’d been right about that. It wasn’t all going to get better quickly. It might not be okay ever again.</p>
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